The One Who Had The Clearest View
by mione1
Summary: It started with a conversation she'd been avoiding for years and before she knew it her life was turned upside down and she was thrown head-first into the place she'd turned her back on 5 years ago and back into the memories she'd tried so hard to forget.
1. In A New York Cafe

The One Who Had the Clearest View

A/N: This is a stand-alone piece at the moment but it may be developed into a fic. I'm not sure yet. I might build on this or I might leave it as it is. Let me know what you think.

About the story: I've never been to New York and have no idea if it snows in October so don't have a go at me if it doesn't. For the record I doubt it does but, for this piece, it does.

Disclaimer: Own nothing, paid nothing, don't sue.

***

"Are you sure you have that much time?" she asked, turning off her cell phone and pager, "There's a lot to tell,"

"I have all day. I want you to tell me _everything: what you really thought, how he was out of view, how he acted with you, what he was really like, everything. That is, of course, if you want to," the red-head sat across the table in the New York café enthused, smiling in a hope she could persuade her friend to give in._

"I don't know if I want to," she paused a moment, thinking, "But if I do, I want you to promise not to repeat what I say to anyone though,"

"I swear on my life, scout's honour, hand on the Bible, snap-my-wand-if-I-tell, and promise I won't. I've been dying to ask you since you told me that you knew him a few years ago."

The second woman sighed and brushed a strand of brown hair from her face, considering her reply. Why had she let the conversation take this turn? On the other side of the pane of glass separating them from the rest of Manhattan, the bright sunlight of the late October afternoon reflected off the crisp white snow that had fallen that night and continued to do so. On the street outside men and women in suits, uniforms or jeans and sweaters underneath long winter coats brought out earlier than normal scurried past on their way to the main shopping avenues or on their way back to work at the end of their lunch breaks. Inside the café the few regulars sat at their regular tables in their regular groups, discussing the past day or night's events and the waitresses stood behind the counter talking amongst themselves. The bell above the door jingled, announcing the arrival of a customer. She looked up out of curiosity at the face of the handsome stranger who didn't even notice her. It wasn't anybody she recognised anyway. 

After another long pause and a sigh of defeat at her friend's eager face, the younger woman met her companion's eyes and said, "Where do you want me to start Alana?"

"How about this for a starting question:" Alana said with a smile of triumph, "What was, in you view, as you were on of his best friends, Harry Potter like?"

"Well," she took a deep breath, "I'm not sure where to start," the brunette thought a moment, "Harry was, to be honest, scared."

"Scared?"

"Yes. Harry was scared. He'd grown up without love, a family, always an outsider and made to believe there was something terribly wrong or bad about him. The Dursleys, on the several times I'd met them, treated him like shit. I suppose they were scared of his powers; but for eleven years Harry didn't know about them; he was fed a lie that his parents had been killed in a car crash. He spent his childhood without the loving environment that most children grow up in and then when he's eleven he finds he's wanted dead and nearly killed by one of the most powerful dark wizards in centuries, who also murdered his parents. You'd be scared too." Again she paused, as if deciding if to say what she were about to was wise, "He once told me that he had feared for his life every day since he'd found out about You-Know-Who and all that. He told me that when we were seventeen."

"Harry had never had anyone to call a friend until he met Ron and I. He'd never known what it was like to be loved or what is was like to have someone to love. Not in _that_ way, in a platonically friendly way. Although the boys would never admit it to each other, we all loved each other to bits. Harry and Ron were my brothers, best friends and part of me all rolled into one. We each thought the same about the other. At first I think Harry was just grateful that we would acknowledge his presence without flinching, but, as we grew up, I think he felt, no, I think we all felt like second families and even personas to each other. Or in Harry's case, Ron, the Wealseys and I may have been like a real family to him, or as close as he was going to get. The Dursleys treated him as an inconvenience."

"As time went on Harry suffered blows. Not just being put under curses or getting into fist fights with the likes of Draco Malfoy, he dealt with them himself pretty well, but emotional blows, heavy blows. Because of who he was the media, especially that nasty 'Rita' bitch, followed and exaggerated things that happened to him. You've heard about the 'Triwizard Tournament' and Cederic Diggory haven't you?"

"Yes," Alana nodded, paying rapt attention to the speaker's every word, "Harry saw him die didn't he?"

"That's right. That hit him hard. He was guilt ridden for months and was nearly swallowed by his own depression. Then the deaths started."

"Deaths?"

"You-Know-Who started getting at Harry by getting at the few people he held close to him. First it was Hagrid, the Hogwarts Groundskeeper who had introduced Harry to the magical world only four years before. You-Know-Who killed him and let Harry find the body on purpose, along with a note that convinced Harry that it was his fault the Hagrid died." Alana gasped in shock. She'd heard that Hagrid had died, but not _that. "Then Harry's first girlfriend, Cho. She was kidnapped and Harry was sent her wand and head in a Christmas present. That tore him up for months. He went through a phase of just not speaking. It was horrible. After Cho died he distanced himself from everyone but when Ron's sister, Ginny, who he'd been friends with since our second year, was killed, he just broke down."_

"How do you mean?"

"Well, Harry and Ginny had always had a thing for each other, it was common knowledge. She was one of the people who helped him get over Cho and he told me the day before she died he was going to tell her he really, really liked her. It was wonderful; it was like having the old Harry back again." A sad, reminiscent smile played across her face and her eyes looked, not focusing, at something behind Alana, marking the beginning of another long and thoughtful pause, through which Alana sipped her coffee patiently. She hadn't known how delicate a subject this was. The second woman's head snapped up suddenly as she drew herself out of the memories dancing across her inner eye and let her smile fade before continuing her story, "Ron and I set up a picnic by the lake for them so he could tell her. Harry was running late and was about to go to meet Ginny when he got a stabbing pain in his scar. Do you know about the scar?"

"Didn't he get pains in it whenever You-Know-Who was near?"

"Yeah. Well he nearly passed out it was so bad, but he insisted he was fine and left. When he got to the lake there was a crowd around where he and Ginny were to meet. You-Know-Who got to Ginny. The pain was because he'd gotten into the school grounds."

"Oh God. What happened after that?"

"It was like he was sucked into a black cocoon. He barely slept, barely ate, barely spoke and threw himself into his studies so hard he would exhaust himself. He avoided Ron and me constantly. Ron grew angry with him because of this but he was just hurting over Ginny and, although I wish it wasn't the reason, it was that was what brought me and Ron together. Harry's avoidance and Ron's despair drew us all even further apart and, because I couldn't get near Harry to even speak to him most of the time and Ron was so devastated he seemed to cling to me, it drew Ron and me together."

"I remember that during the Christmas of our sixth year Ron went home for the holidays and I stayed with Harry. We were the only pupils at school that Christmas and we actually started to talk properly again. We thought we were getting things back to how they were before until Dumbledore called him into his office on Christmas Eve and told him that Sirius Black, his godfather, had been found dead. Harry came back to the Gryffindor common room and just broke down. He just burst into tears and told me he was terrified of who was going to be next. I can remember feeling so helpless. He just sat there, in my arms, and poured his heart out, but worst of all was what he said to me before he fell asleep. _'Hermione, everyone I hold dear to me dies. I hate this. I'm fucking cursed. Everyone I love dies. It would have been better if I'd Voldemort had done it right the first time around.'_"

"He didn't?"

"He did. It was horrible because I knew he meant it. He wished he'd died. He tried to kill himself when Ron died a week later."

Alana gasped and Hermione looked down, willing the tears not to fall. Alana was the only person, other than Dumbledore and Madame Pomfrey that she'd told that to. _'Oh well'_ she told herself, _'better than bottling it up'_.

"Harry stole some poison form the potions lab the same day. I went up to see him before I went to sleep and found him. He was pale, his eyes rolled back in his head and he looked like he'd thrown up blood over himself. He told me in the hospital wing a few days later that he'd done it to protect _me_. He said that he was scared to get and stay close to people because when he did they died. So you see Alana, that is why I describe Harry Potter as scared. He was scared of love. His parents had loved him and been killed, Ginny, Cho, Hagrid, Sirius and Ron had loved him and he'd loved them and they'd all been snatched away from him. He was scared of going through that pain again."

"Oh my God. Let's move the conversation on then. What was he _really_ like? When he was himself, I mean."

Hermione waited until the waitress with their fresh drinks had left before smiling and continuing, "He was lovely. He was, despite everything that happened, kind, considerate and one of the best friends I've ever had the pleasure of having. He had so much determination to do the right thing. He was calm under pressure and very, very brave and I admire him for being able to put up with the snootiness I held when I was younger," Hermione laughed a little, "When we got older, when he would speak to people that is, he was always so understanding and we could sit talking for hours. He was always fun to be with and he never, _ever let the fame go to his head." Hermione paused a second, tilting her head and met Alana's eyes, "I suppose I was a bit in love with him." _

"Do you think he was with you?" the red haired lady asked her friend gently, aware they were getting onto an even more delicate subject.

"I don't know. To be honest, I think he was."

"What was he like away from the public eye?"

"Exactly the same as how he was in it because a lot of the time he didn't know he was in it." Alana noticed a hint of bitterness in her work colleague's voice. 

Hermione paused a moment, sipping her coffee and Alana waited patiently for her to continue. The sky outside was darkening and one of the waitresses lit a fire in the hearth near where they were sitting. The sofa they were sat on toward the back of the room was a little worn but it was their favourite place in the café. Alana and Hermione would often, when they weren't working, sit here into the night with friends, taking good advantage of the bar that opened at 2pm. Although the two weren't often in the café to see the bar open, as they had today, they promised each other to wait until the rest of their group met before they started drinking after a hard week of work.

"Now that I think about it, Harry was like a little boy lost."

"A little boy lost?"

"Yes. There was something in his eyes that made him seem that way; I saw it the night Sirius died. He was really, wasn't he? He'd never had anyone to really show him the way for years. I think it was just me that thought of him like that though."

"I suppose you knew him best,"

"Yes, I suppose I did. We got a lot closer after Ron died. _Very close if you're getting my drift," Hermione blushed._

"No way! Did you really, you know?" Alana tried to get Hermione to meet her eyes and her friend nodded, "Whoa!"

"Drunk on Graduation Night."

"Didn't things get awkward after that?" 

"No. We just woke up and actually looked at each other, screamed and said exactly the same thing," Hermione smiled.

"Which was…" the elder woman encouraged.

"Oh shit, we did, didn't we?"

Alana laughed with Hermione and said "Really? In unison?"

"More or less. I can't remember. Then we laughed a hell of a lot harder than this and laughed about it ever after."

"What, no awkwardness?"

"No, we just laughed whenever we brought it up. Probably because we couldn't remember anything that happened after about 3am."

"In my school the girls all thought of Harry Potter as some sort of fabulous sex-god they were dying to meet and the boys thought he'd be some sort of shy, geeky kid who never had a girlfriend. Nobody had clear views of him," admitted Alana from behind her coffee cup.

"Except me," Hermione mused with a nostalgic tone to her voice, "I suppose I was the one with the clearest view."

"So it seems," Alana added thoughtfully, "seeing as you had the clearest view, did he have a nice bum?"

This set both of them off it fits of laughter and earned them a few odd looks from fellow customers. When they had calmed down Hermione managed to choke out, "Yes, it was lovely," and thus set them off again.

When they calmed down Alana let out a shriek as she caught a glimpse of her watch.

"Crap, I've got a hair appointment in ten minutes. I'll have to love you and leave you. Meet you here with the others at 7?"

"Yeah, I'm good for that." Hermione replied, hugging her friend goodbye.

"Oh, 'Mione," Alana called from the doorway as Hermione was gathering her things to leave herself, "Where is he now? I'd love to see that bum,"

"I don't know," Hermione answered with a sad smile, "I haven't seen him for six years."

A/N: Ta da! Let me know what you think. Should I build on it or was it awful enough to feed my dog? It's 11:50 at night so pleeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaassssssseeeeeeeeeee read and review. Flames are welcome because they'll keep me warm in winter. 


	2. Hating Britain

The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Two- Hating Britain

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue.

***

Hating Britain

Britain. Oh how she hated the place. It had been five, long, glorious years since she'd turned her back on the place and she hadn't regretted it in the slightest to that day. In the five years since she'd jetted off from Heathrow airport smiling and with good prospects awaiting her she hadn't missed a single thing of the UK. Not even her parents. She knew it was awful and she had tried to miss them, really, she had, but she just didn't. Maybe only seeing them for a month (on average) a year for seven years, a week a year at Christmas for the four years she'd been in University and the hour since she'd landed since she was eleven had something to do with it. Her conversations with her family had always been repetitions of themselves, ever travelling in a boring and tedious circle, and filled with long, awkward pauses where nobody had anything to say; her letters had become shorter and shorter and, after her second year at Hogwarts, very few and far apart; she'd only bothered every few months in University and since moving to New York had only sent single paragraph emails when she remembered or family sent her one.

She'd been in Britain for only an hour but oh how she missed New York already. It was like a stomach ache. She had loved the place. Loved the noises, the smells, the people, her colleagues, her team at work, her office, her apartment, the beautiful view of the Manhattan skyline she'd had from her apartment. She'd loved the cabs, the busy streets, the newspaper stands and the strange and normal tenants in her apartment block. She'd loved the hustle and bustle of the underground, the mass crowds of the pedestrian crossings, the café/bar she and her friends met in almost every day, even the traffic but, above all, she'd just loved the_ energy of the place. Compared the all of that the depths of suburban middle class London she was now passing through Britain was stone-cold __dead._

"We've missed you so much Hermione," her father told her for what was now the sixth time since he'd met her at the airport as they stopped at traffic lights in his Volkswagen Passat.

"And I've missed you too," she repeated for the sixth time half-heartedly. She'd tried to miss things but just hadn't. Hermione didn't feel bad about it though. How could she when there wasn't much to miss?

"I'm so glad to have you back," beamed Mathew Granger as they started moving again, stealing a glance at his 27 year old daughter fiddling with her cell phone in the passenger seat.

"Yes, dad, you told me," Hermione fought the urge to add 'five times already' to that last sentence.

"Everyone will be so pleased to see you," he continued.

"Yes, dad, you told me," again the urge was strong.

"It's been so long since we last saw you,"

"Five years," God did the repetition ever end? We're they rehearsing some sort of play?

Urgh, Britain was so ugly, Hermione thought, brushing her hair out of her face and turning to stare out of the window. Compared to New York it seemed so _grey and so __lifeless. Even in autumn and the depths of winter New York had seemed __alive. She missed her friends already, longed for the warmth and cosiness of her apartment with its spectacular view, craved even a hint of a shadow of the life that was hers just hours ago. It was such a depressing reality that it would be a long time before she saw any of them again._

When Hermione had found out her office were sending her to London to help train up some of the new Aurora Higher recruits (more skilled and advanced versions of auroras. Like FBI to the NYPD) she had first refused, then threatened to resign, then protested, followed by grumbled and finally begged her boss not to give her the assignment. She didn't even care about the hugely increased pay check she'd be getting or the large and numerous increases her boss gave when trying to persuade her to go. Although she later admitted it was a nice extra. But of all the places they had to send her, why _Britain? She wanted to go home, to New York. There were too many bad memories here._

***

"Hermione!" her mother all but screamed as she ran out of the front door of the house to greet her.  Hermione turned around and was nearly knocked into the boot of the car with the bags she was trying to lift out (the neighbours were nosy so it was too risky to use her magic) as her mother drew her into a rib breaking hug. "I've missed you so much!"

"Me too!" she cried, remembering what Alana had told her to do if she still felt the same when she got to her parent house. _'If when you get there you don't feel anything or miss us lot even more,' she'd explained __'lie like your fucking middle-class  little English arse depends on it!'_

"Let me look at you!" Anne took a step back, "Oh I like what you've done to your hair, and those jeans. Hermione," her face darkened suddenly, "you've lost weight, are you eating properly,"

"Yes, yes, I am, and mum; I'm still the same dress size and weight I was as when I left,"

"If you say so. Well, come on inside and tell me everything about New York!"

And so Hermione followed her mother inside the house she'd not seen for five years and spent the rest of her afternoon holding a repetitive conversation that moved in one long, boring and tedious circle, filled with long and awkward pauses, wishing she was at home, in New York, away from the bad memories threatening to creep into her mind. 

***

A/N: Sorry about the shitty ending, I wanted to tie this up here and couldn't think of how to do it decently.

Ta da! I decided to build on it!

**Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed!!!!!**

Thank you, thank you, thank you! That was such an ego boost! Massive thanks to **pink-crane, ****mazy, ****ravn (I shall say no more about the stranger (for now!)), ****duckies, animegirl-mika (I may take you up on that offer of a beta reader soon if it still stands), ****fanficaholic137, ****Polegara, ****lyz slytherin, Katt, ****JCzPRiNCeSS, ****lunatic-gurl and**** michelle. Thanks also to anyone I may have missed. The next bit may not be up for a while because I have to go back to school for the new term soon. L**

**I don't really hate ****Britain****, just my area of ****Wales****.**

Thanks again, peace to everyone! J

Beth


	3. Faces

The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Three – Faces

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue

***

Faces

She was sure she'd seen it. Almost positive. It wasn't the first time either. She'd seen it when she was at her parent's house the night she got back, she'd seen it the first night she was in her new apartment and now she'd seen it again. A face staring from a window that disappeared almost as soon as she saw it. It was creepy. 

Hermione rubbed her hand over her eyes and moved the curtain back into place. She must be going crazy. A quick glance at the clock told her it nearly 3am. Not being able to sleep wasn't unusual, nor was waking up at 2:54am exactly. She always seemed to wake up then. She wandered from her bedroom to the living room of the flat she'd purchased a few weeks ago and put her cell phone on charge, noticing she'd forgotten and the battery was nearly empty and contemplated turning the TV on. Deciding against it she turned to head over to the kitchen when she heard a knock at the door. She hesitated, not really wanting to answer the door at this time of night and dressed in her pyjamas. Another knock. Carefully, she crept over to the door, not wanting to make a noise and tell whoever was on the other side there was someone up, and looked through the peephole. Nothing. When she opened the door a crack and peered outside again she saw nothing. A sudden noise on the street below made her jump and slam the door shut in panic. So much for not making it obvious she was awake.

Relief washed over her when she saw someone one the other side of the street picking a box up from the floor through a gap in the blinds. The person must have dropped it, that was what she heard. _'But what were they doing out at this time?' she asked herself __'Could they have been the person knocking on the door? What was in the box? What if it was- Stop it!' she scolded herself__ 'I'm going to get paranoid. Stop it now!'_

She headed back to bed, definitely unnerved and didn't dare look out the window for the face.

***

Diagon Alley wasn't too busy that Friday morning. Hermione managed to get all of the items on her list and then began browsing for herself. She was in between to rows of shelves at the very back of 'Flourish and Blotts' bookstore (some things never die) when she nearly jumped out her skin. She took a book from the shelf at the same time as the person on the other side and heard a male voice shout her name from nowhere and the next thing she knew someone had her in a rib-crushing hug and all she could see of the person to try and work out who they were was a head of scruffy, jet-black hair.

***

"I don't know Evan, it seems a little weak," the young man informed his colleague.

"Are you sure? We've riddled it with strengthening charms and an anti-fall charm." Evan ran a hand through his brown hair and turned to face the man bent over the scroll displaying what he had spent a week working on.

"Not like that, I meant risky-weak."

"Risky-weak?"

"Yeah, they may not buy it, there's a flaw in it."

"How do you mean?" Evan couldn't see one.

"There's a rumour flying that they already have someone."

"You're joking!"

"Afraid not. Apparently the head of the Aurora Highers training team has been shopping, but he shopped quietly."

"Do you know who they've got?"

"No. All I've been told is that it's a witch from the New York office. They've claimed her for a year. She's good though, _very good. Or so Boris says," explained the younger man and he took his glasses, rubbing his eyes. He couldn't believe the way his plan was falling apart._

"Is it Alana Cistern?" Evan asked his superior. Last time he had met Alana she had been very interested in the work the London office were doing, although that was two years ago.

"I don't know. I doubt it is though. Alana Cistern is one of the best under-covers the New York office have. They'd put up a fight before they let her go."

"She may be one of the best, but she isn't _the best. I heard it was some other woman, can't remember her name though. Apparently she was the master-mind behind the Norway incident last year. Nearly got herself killed as well." Evan mused aloud before taking a loud slurp of his coffee._

"Evan, that's just a rumour, don't take it seriously. This woman may not even be a woman, or even exist. They could just be an invention or a cover up. You've met Alana; you know what she's like,"

"True, true. Then again, you could just be saying that because you're jealous." Teased the dark haired man, not meeting his friend's eyes.

"Jealous?" his friend inquired, raising a black eyebrow.

"Yes, jealous. Jealous because this mystery person is better than you."

"Nobody, Evan Sterling, is better than me."

"Really? You, Harry Potter, are getting cocky."

"Piss off," laughed Harry, "Come on, Flourish and Blotts won't be open forever,"

***

A/N: Sorry its short and took a wile to be posted!

I'd just like to explain something about chapter 2. Hermione hates Britain because of all of the bad memories she has of it.

Thanks to everyone who reviewed. The next bit may not be up for a while because I'm going on holiday soon.

Mione


	4. Mary, Josh, Anne and Bump

The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter 4 – Mary, Josh, Anne and Bump

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue!

***

Mary, Josh, Anne and Bump

"Oh my God I've missed you so much!" cried the strangely familiar voice.

"Hermione? My God! Is it you?" asked another voice, this one female. Hermione looked over the shoulder of the person hugging her to see a woman with long, straight auburn hair and startlingly grey eyes behind a pair of small framed glasses. She had one hand resting on a baby pram in which Hermione could see a sleeping baby and a small boy with floppy red hair was resting on her hip, pulling her jumper tight over a stomach with a small but definite bump at the bottom of it.

"Mary!" Hermione gasped. The man stepped back and grinned, holding her at arm's length planting a light kiss on her cheek. It seemed the past five years had been nothing but good to Fred Weasley.

"Wow, this is a change." Hermione gestured to his hair.

"Yeah. It was an accident the first time it happened but I kind of like it so it's staying for now. Josh thought it was wonderfully funny anyway."

"Hello," Josh, Fred's eldest child shyly greeted Hermione, stretching out a small hand upon hearing his name. 

"Hello Josh. My word you've grown so much! You'll be as tall as your Daddy soon,"

Josh giggled and began introducing his family to Hermione.

"Mummy," he lay his hand adorably across his mother's chest, "Daddy," he pointed at Fred, "and Anne."

"Play along, shake our hands. It's his new thing. He introduces us to everyone, even mum and dad," Fred whispered.

"Hello," Hermione shook Mary and Fred's hand and whispered a 'Hello' and waved to the sleeping Anne in her pram.

"Josh, do you remember Aunty Hermione? We went to her house in New York in the summer and her friend Alana bought you that big sticky lolly?" Mary asked, shifting him further up her hip.

"Bump." Josh announced, ignoring his mother's question and laying a hand across his mother's stomach, almost slipping from her grasp as he did so.

Hermione met Fred's eyes and turned her gaze quickly to Mary, seeing identical grins spread across their faces.

"We were going to tell you ourselves in a minute but Josh seems to have beaten us to it," Mary explained. Hermione could tell by the look on their faces that they were both about to bubble over with excitement and knew what they were about to say.

"There's going to be another Weasley about April time!" Fred's smile, if possible grew even more as he slid his arm around his wife.

"Congratulations!" Hermione cried, hugging them both, or as close as she could get as Josh began trying to wriggle free from his mother's grasp. "So, how is everyone?"

"Fine, fine. George looks about ready to settle down now, he's finally proposed to Alice, Percy is still being driven mad by his kids and is still working for the ministry, Bill is living in Australia still, but he's coming home for Christmas and Charlie has turned his hand to teaching in France."

"Really? I thought Charlie swore never to turn teacher after the stories Alice had told him." Hermione raised an eyebrow. Alice had been George's partner for over four years now and the two of them had met several times. After Professor Binns had retired from Hogwarts Alice had taken up his post and moved to Hogsmeade where George had opened another branch of the joke shop he and his brother had worked until they sweated blood on after graduating. It had been a tough for them at first, but now the business was booming. The Weasleys had, apart from Dumbledore, been the only people Hermione had kept in regular contact with after leaving.

"So then, Miss Granger, what brings you so suddenly back to these shores?" Fred inquired while trying to pry a book from the shelf beside them out of his young son's hands.

"Work, I'm afraid. The London office has claimed me for a year and you wouldn't believe what they've got me doing,"

"I take it you'd rather be with the bright lights of the Big Apple than the big heads of Big Ben?" Fred laughed. Before he had met Mary, Fred had been all set to go with Hermione to stay for a while and work with an expert in Manhattan who had agreed to help the business. However, he'd met Mary and by the time he was about to leave they were engaged. The expert had, thankfully, decided to come to them.

"You guessed it."

"So what have they got you doing?" Mary asked, checking Anne was still asleep.

Hermione dropped her voice to a whisper, "I don't really want to say it here," she glanced nervously at the witch a little further down the isle and the tall wizard stood even closer, "Can we go somewhere else?"

"Sure," Fred answered, a little confused. He knew Hermione worked with Auror Highers and was one of the best of them, but she'd never been this nervous about admitting that. He'd seen the way she'd glanced around, definitely worried about telling them in public and, if he knew as much as thought he did about her line of work, she wouldn't tell them the whole story either.

***

For Harry Potter, life was going great. He had a great job, a great wage, a great house, a great group of friends and had just come back from a great holiday. He'd been home after two weeks skiing in the French Alps with a group of friends for just a week and things were definitely getting better again. He'd just checked his bank balance. 

"Can we go yet?" Evan was looking pointedly at his watch, leaning against the wall outside Harry's Gringotts vault.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Quit moaning. Go on ahead. I'll meet you there; I might be a while with the Goblins."

Evan Sterling was glad of the chance to leave Gringotts. The goblins had given him the creeps ever since he was a child and he was glad to climb out of the cart and watch it disappear again to wait for Harry. 

Making his way through a relatively quiet Diagon Alley, Evan bumped into an old acquaintance. Damien Gerard.  Damien had always been interested in Evan's line of work, and, although there was no strict law against telling people abut working with the Auror Highers, Evan had always refrained from telling Damien more than that he worked for the 'Defence' department of the Ministry. Damien was known to his office and wasn't particularly trusted. Damien was suspected of practicing the Dark Arts. And Damien was also very good at not getting caught.

"Evan, old chap, long time no see!" he cried in his false English accent that was tinged slightly with a New York sound, clapping Evan hard on the back.

"Damien!" Evan returned, putting on a false smile, "How've you been?"

"Good, good. Just got in from New York actually. Waiting fro the jet-lag to set in."

"Nasty thing, jet lag," Evan lied. He avoided Muggle planes as much as possible and had never experienced jet-lag, "What brings you over here then?"

"Nothing much really. Just visiting family. I'm here for Christmas and New Year and then its back to work."

"Not long 'til Christmas is it now?" Evan replied, hoping he could end the conversation soon. Damien had always been such a creep it made him shudder and his skin crawl.

"A month last Saturday I believe. Anyway, got to dash. See you soon old chap!"

"Take care," Evan smiled, knowing he would avoid seeing Damien again at all costs. He covered the short distance he had left to Flourish and Blotts Bookshop, holding the door open for a tall, dark haired man and two women, one with a push chair and the other with a small boy resting on her hip to pass through out of courtesy and glanced back at Damien's  retreating back. Evan had to suppress a shudder as he entered the shop.

***

A/N: Sorry I've been a while between updates. I'm back from my holiday now so I'll be working on this story again soon. Thanks to everyone who reviewed! Peace to everyone! J (Don't worry, I'm not a total hippy!)


	5. Sorry

Apology

I'm really, really, really, really sorry this has taken so long to upload. I have a explanation for anyone who wants to read it, if not feel free to skip ahead to the next chapter.

Right, firstly, a little thing called the real world got bitchy. I think we've all experienced that. Then, about two weeks ago, my _wonderful brother fucked up the internet settings on my computer and still insists he doesn't know what he did and that he was 'exploring'. Why couldn't he have 'explored' on his own computer? Your guess is as good as mine. Then Christmas arrived, need I say more?  __Then, yesterday, my dad decided to get rid of AOL and try Freeserve.  Again, I ask, why on __my computer instead on our main one? That worked but by the time he was finished my relatives had arrived and we had to abandon my computer in favour of senseless talk about Coronation Street. But, thank the Lord, about 20 minutes ago I persuaded him to get on the phone to AOL (because it's all in his name, not mine and Freeserve was useless) and voila, I'm back online!_

I've got two chapters coming today and I'm going to finish writing another tonight.

Thank you so, so, so, so much to everyone who reviewed.

Mione.


	6. Making Impressions

The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Five – Making Impressions

Disclaimer: I don't own anything blah blaaaah blaaaaaaaaah. You get the picture.

Sorry this has taken so long. A little thing called the real world got bitchy.

***

Making Impressions

"Good morning candidates. My name is Hermione Granger. Welcome to your first day of Auror Higher training. Before I start I would like to explain three basic rules of Auror Higher conduct," began the young witch as she strode gracefully in front of the fifty students gathered in the lecture hall, her heels clicking on the floor. Evan made a mental note of the name 'Hermione Granger' as the woman came to a stop at a desk in front of a currently blank screen. Harry would be pissed that a woman younger than both of them had got the job he'd schemed so hard to get. Evan smirked, glad he'd be the one to tell him that. It would put him in the lead in their little battle. 

"Number One: Stay one step ahead of the enemy. Number Two: Never be seen and number three: Always have an extra set of eyes for yourself. Simple enough?" seeing a couple of confused faces, Hermione thought she'd better explain what that last rule meant. _'And these guys are supposed to be the best. I thought that meant possessing a basic level of intelligence.' She complained to herself. "Another pair of eyes mean back up. A partner. A look out. We humans do not have eyes in the backs of our heads and so need someone to keep a watch for us. Get it? I'd have thought you'd have taken a note of those rules."_

Two hours later things weren't looking up. One student had nearly disembowelled another when Hermione asked them to hold a mock duel so she could see their agility and reflexes, another two had got into a slanging match, despite being 20 years old and she'd seen at least two blokes picking their nose. This was going to be a long year.

"Look guys!" Hermione shouted over the bickering and chattering from her spot atop of her desk as the students below her attempted to create shields to protect themselves from curses, "You are all 20 years old! Can we _please act it! In the past two hours I've seen childish squabbles, people picking noses and had someone nearly disembowelling another because of a stupid mispronunciation of a spell! You are fully grown witches and wizards training to become some of the most important peace-keepers in our world! If this is how you try and impress an Auror Higher Elite from the New York office I pity the British Wizarding Community should any of you live to finish this programme. If you behave like children I shall treat you like children. I was told that you were some of the best! I hope to God they were joking because, as harsh as my words seem" she stared out over the silent hall "I have not been convinced. I thought that you all had to possess a level of basic intelligence to be here. Judging by what I have seen I am doubtful some of you do!" she paused and ran a hand through her hair, closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "Look, I know you all think I'm a bitch now," her voice softened, "but if I didn't say that __now we would be risking a repeat performance or worse. I want you to know I've been here. I know what first days are like and I want you to do well, really I do. I'm making impressions myself here. I've been dragged away from a job I love in new York and thrown head first into training you lot up for your first year on this course and because I'm from the DB66 team," a couple of people gasped and stared wide eyed at her, "everyone is expecting me to make you brilliant in half the time it takes to make you good. I've got a lot to prove to a lot of people, including proving that I've done well enough with you to get a training honour back home, so I'd appreciate a bit of cooperation tomorrow and from now on. If you all wake up and smell the coffee and really knuckle down not only can we get you through the basics quickly but if we can do well enough we can all take a shot at honours awards. You all know how good they are, don't you?" fifty heads nodded, "Good. Now I want you to have read the first two chapters of '__The Basic's Handbook' by tomorrow and to pack up and go home and get ready to really __try tomorrow. Thank you. Any questions?"_

"Miss Granger –"

"It's just Mione"

"Mione, are you really part of the DB66 team?" asked a tall man with a shock of white blonde hair pulled into a ponytail.

"Yes, but I'm on leave at the moment to be here."

"So does that mean you know Alana Cistern?" another man, Jerry Swan, asked.

"Yes, it does. Alana is my backup in the DB66 team and one of my best friends."

Evan's eyebrow rose.

***

"Great. Just bloody great."

"She's cute too, Harry."

"It just had to be a woman, didn't it?"

"I knew you'd be smarting about that one." Evan smirked.

"What else did you find out about her?"

"Well, she's not Alana Cistern, she's her best friend. She's here for a year to train up the new candidates up to the 2nd level. She's from the New York office, she wasn't impressed with us, she's very, _very good, so good it's frightening, very fast and get this: Not only is she an __Auror Higher Elite, but she's part of the DB66 team and __Alana is __her backup!" Evan took a swig of his coffee, watching Harry choke on his at his announcement._

"_Bloody hell!" Harry exclaimed._

"I know. You've got a lot to beat now, Harry."

"What did you say her name was?" Harry asked, turning to face his partner in this investigation.

"I didn't. It's Hermione Granger."

Harry went white.

***

A/N: Sorry it's not much. 

I must say, there's something I'm very surprised nobody picked up on in the last chapter. Oh well.

Thank you to everyone who reviewed.


	7. Anton Eval

The One Who Had the Clearest View

Chapter Six – Anton Eval

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or anything you recognise of J. K. Rowling's. So don't sue me.

Also, any people from California reading this don't be offended. The 'blundering idiots' Alana is training isn't meant to mean anything nasty. I have Californian roots and so have nothing against you; California was the first American place that popped into my head.

***

Anton Eval

_'THEY'VE SENT ME TO __CALIFORNIA__! I'M TRAINING THEIR FIRST LEVELS!_

_I can't believe it! They've decided that because you got such a good review for your first day, they want Brian and me to have a go at training again! I thought once was enough! But no. They're putting me through it again! I can really say I know what you're going through now, Mione!_

_You wouldn't believe how much we all miss you Mione! The office was so dead after you left I'm almost glad to be out of it training up the Californian candidates. How are the British candidates now? By the sound of it I think you scared them into shape during your first few lectures. The Californian candidates aren't much better and I've come close to physically strangling one of them. Is it just Brian and I, but have entry (and intelligence) standards taken a nose dive since we began? Some of the things I've seen these people doing (or not doing) are unbelievable! I can't wait to write my report on them for Mike Flanders next month (He's the 'Man in Charge' here.) Hopefully it'll wake him up for when he comes to pick next year's batch. I'm also hoping that when my report gets back to the office they'll see what they're putting me through and bring me back. _

_Wish me luck with my group of blundering idiots._

_Good luck with your group of blundering idiots._

_See you over New Year._

_Alana.'_

Hermione sighed and folded the letter again. Outside it was, to nobody's surprise, raining. She missed home. She was counting the days until she could see it again. 8 days. 8 days until she jetted home. Today was the 20th of December and she was looking forward to Christmas with a feeling closer to anxiety that excitement. She would be spending Christmas Eve and the majority of Christmas day with her family in London and then was going to spend Christmas night and Boxing Day with the Weasleys. She would be seeing a lot of her family for the first time in nine years, some she wouldn't have seen since before she went the Hogwarts. She was looking forward to seeing her grandmother though. Megan Granger had always loved seeing Hermione perform magic and her younger cousins relished the fact that she had promised she could make their sprouts disappear from their plates for them. However, her grandfather on her mother's side, his second wife, their children and their eldest daughter's child would be there as well and they had always treated Hermione as a family outcast, so much so that her grandfather had cut her out of his will. They hated magic and had claimed that Hermione was poisoning the minds of their children (and would possibly say the same about their grandchild now) ever since she had entered Hogwarts. This narrow minded branch of the family was the reason Hermione had spent every Christmas in Hogwarts, New York or London, since she was eleven. And now she would have to face them for the first time in sixteen years. She shuddered at the thought. The people had always managed to make her to feel unwelcome in her own home.

Also preying on her mind was staying overnight at the Weasley's for the first time since Ron had died. She'd spent days there, they'd all stayed with her for at least a weekend more than once, but she'd never stayed there overnight. She loved having either Fred and the kids, Bill, George, Percy, Charlie and their families, Arthur and Molly or, on more than one occasion, all of them, round because her house or apartment was only filled with post-school memories consisting of her, her friends and any of the Weasley's. In her own home she didn't have to face the thought of walking alone into the kitchen and being vividly reminded of the image of Ginny sat at the table, or have to walk past Ron's room on her way to the bathroom at night without the scene of her younger self, Ron and Harry sat on the floor playing cards flashing across her mind. She was still reminded of these things when she visited the house but there were always others around to take her mind off them during the day. The night, however, was a different story. She was scared of facing a night in The Burrow, scared of lying awake at night with nobody to take her mind off the pictures and sounds flashing through her mind. But she couldn't turn down their offer. She'd felt so bad for not letting the family know she was in England sooner and so had accepted, promising to be there for 5pm on Christmas day. She only hoped they didn't ask her to sleep in Ron or Ginny's room. Hermione would offer to sleep on the sofa but by doing that she'd be bringing back memories that she would have spent the day trying to squash. Undoubtedly the Weasley's would be doing that themselves that day. She knew how hard Christmas without a loved one was, especially when one was surrounded by memories of them. She would just ignore and avoid any situations where she would be forced to remember anything painful. But first she had to get through a day with Grandpa Ivan, Sandy ('stick insect' to Hermione and her cousin Louise, whom she had recently regained contact with) – Jane, Their bratty twenty-five year old daughter, Constance, their twenty-year-old spoilt brat Matthias and Constance's four year old daughter, Courtney. According to her mother, Courtney was a Constance in the making. 'What a lot to look forward to.' Hermione thought sarcastically.

"Excuse me, do you have the time?" asked a voice behind her, breaking into her thoughts. Hermione jumped and turned to see a man with white blonde hair and the greyest eyes she'd ever seen leaning around the door to her compartment on the train taking her across the English countryside away from Birmingham. His hair fell from behind his ear, gently pouring in front of his eyes and he swiped it back with such grace all Hermione could do was keep her from jaw dropping. Then man was gorgeous! Seeing he'd startled her his face broke out into the most beautiful apologetic smile she'd ever seen. "Oh, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to startle you. My watch has stopped and the clock on my mobile phone needs setting and I need to phone ahead to my cousin to tell him I'm running late."

"It's ok," Hermione somehow managed to say, surprised her voice sounded more confident and normal than she had expected it to by far, "I was in a world of my own then. It's 6:34."

"Right, thank you," the blonde man smiled, drawing himself up to his full height as he began searching through the pockets of his dark green parka coat, finally producing a mobile phone identical to Hermione's. "Hey, snap!" he grinned.

"Pardon?" Hermione didn't have a clue what the man was on about.

"The Samsung T100. What are they like, I only bought mine this afternoon?" he gestured towards Hermione's phone, laying on a candidate's report she had given up marking.

"Oh. They're quite good." Hermione laughed, silently praying he couldn't read the heading of the report from where he was.

"_The Use of Dragon's Claw In the Gabrilia Potion and the Side-Effects it Induces'. Interesting. I find Plaice fin marinated in vinegar for a week is a better substitute myself. Shortens the nausea but lengthens the dizziness." Too late. Hermione's jaw dropped._

"Oh. Really," she stammered.

"I'm Anton Eval. Beaubaxtons, class of'97." Anton extended a hand.

"Hermione Granger. Hogwarts, class of '98," she took the hand. 

"Nice to meet you," he glanced at her left hand, "Miss Granger. Are you a teacher?"

"You could say that," she replied.

"Ah, a lady of mystery. I'm a Potion's researcher training under Professor Severus Snape up at Hogwarts at the moment. Do you remember him?"

"Of course, how could I not?" she smirked.

"You're the third person I've met this month who's said that. Anyway, I'd love to hear about your findings with the dragon's claw. If you don't mind sharing them with a fellow enthusiast, here's my address. I've got to go and phone my cousin now. Thanks very much. It was nice meeting you," Anton waved as he slipped out of the door.

"It was nice meeting you too," Hermione called after him as she got up close the door behind him. She glanced at the business card in her hand watching the little cauldron in the bottom right corner boil over as the flames grew. 'Anton Eval'. She'd heard that name somewhere.

***

A/N: In case anyone is getting confused, someone told me that Harry and co. were born in 1980 and so I've worked from that for this story. That means they graduated in 1998 and this story is set in 2007. But, because I have no idea what 2007 will be like, I'm making the same as 2002, right down to mobile phones, fashion, TV and films.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed, as soon as I'm back online I'll start mentioning your names in my little 'Thank you' bit. By the way, the Samsung T100 is the mobile phone I've been begging my mum for since about August. I'm not getting it because it costs £300 and she's just bought me a new phone. But I can dream, can't I.

I hope everybody had a Happy Christmas!

Mione


	8. Reminiscent

The One Who Had The Clearest View

Chapter Seven – Reminiscent

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

A/N: Sorry about the long gap in between updates. I tend to go off my stories and then take a while to find new enthusiasm for them.

Reminiscent

Evan knew he was watching Harry through beer goggles but he was still thinking straight. Ish. 

There were five of them in the trendy Soho bar, each almost thoroughly drunk. Evan, Harry, Ashley, Kate and Caz had been friends for a few years and were embarking upon their annual December 23rd – 24th Royal Piss Up. Work had finished, gifts had been exchanged and it was approaching 2am. Kate was an old girlfriend of Harry's that never really was. They had met through work, dated for just over a month and decided that they liked each other better as friends. And so they were. Caz was Mr 'My name isn't shortened, my name isn't a girl's name – my parents were hippies' and a member of the team who had started work with the others about 6 weeks after Harry had. Caz and Ashley were often the subject of office gossip because of their notorious on/off relationship. One week they were together, the next they were just friends and so on.

Harry, at that moment in time, was sat slouched in his chair peering into the bottom of his glass; oblivious to the drinking contest Caz, Ashley and Kate were having and Evan's gaze. Something was wrong and Evan knew it. He could pin point it to his revelation about the famous Hermione Granger, but he didn't know why it had caused it. Nearly a month had passed and Harry had mysteriously dropped the subject of the trainer job and thrown himself head-first into their next idea. Evan had expected more scheming aimed at getting the job for himself, it would have been just what they'd needed, but Harry had just left it, instructing his team to move onto their next aim.

Hermione Granger meant something to Harry. That much was obvious. But _what? It was driving Evan mad. However, he knew, and he wasn't sure how, that he couldn't just ask him outright. Evan knew from the media that Harry had lost a lot of people close to him when he was at school, but nothing had ever been mentioned about Hermione Granger. He couldn't really ask the woman herself because that would 1. Give him away and 2. He had pulled out of the training programme. He didn't need to be there and was only pretending to be a candidate to find out the information Harry needed. The information that had turned Harry as pale as death for a moment. Seeing Harry look up, Evan looked away._

"Tequilas all around?" suggested the raven haired man rising to his feet, a completely normal and, slightly drunk smile across his face. Only then did it hit Evan that he was the only one sober. Well, sobered up.

***

_'December 24th. 11pm.'_ Harry thought to himself. This was one of the several nights of the year that he was glad he lived alone.

Harry was sat on his sofa, in front of a roaring fire (growing up at Hogwarts leaves one with a thing for real fires) with a glass of brandy in his hands, completely lost in thought.

It was exactly ten years ago to the hour that he was sat in the Griffyndor common room in Hermione's arms. He could remember every single thing from that night. He could remember the house elf interrupting his and Hermione's chess game to call him to Dumbledore's office; remember how the walk there seemed to go on forever; remember Dumbledore's face when he told him about Sirius. Sirius. Sirius had been the closest thing to a father he ever had and one of the scarce remaining links he had with his family. He could remember how long the walk back to the common room had been; remember Hermione's face when he cam through the door, how she'd taken his hands in hers when he sat down next to her. He could remember choking out the word 'Sirius' before completely breaking down. He could remember how Hermione had wrapped her arms around him as she cried silently with him. 

_'Hermione, everyone I hold dear to me dies. I hate this. I'm fucking cursed. Everyone I love dies. It would have been better if Voldemort had got it right the first time round.'_

His own words still haunted him. He remembered how much he had meant what he'd said to her. The intensity of the feeling still scared him to this day. He knew Hermione had been scared as well. The way she tightened her grip on him as he began speaking told him, as did what she'd said. She pulled back from him, had taken his face in her hands and said '_Don't you ever say that again. It's not true and you don't really mean it. I'm still here. I'll always be here for you, no matter what. Stop thinking like that this instant Harry.'_  As she finished her last word the clock had chimed for eleven and she pulled him back to her as he cried. He wouldn't admit it to any of his friends now, but he cried more than he thought he ever had that night. Sirius had been his last connection with the family he'd wanted so much and his death had brought everything into perspective for him. 

Loosing Ron had been just as bad and for him was the final straw. He didn't think he could take it if anyone else was killed. That day it had been his turn to hold Hermione as they cried. While she went for a bath he used his invisibility cloak to sneak down to the potions store room and took the first jar of poison he found. It kicked in immediately and the pain was unlike anything he'd ever felt. The next thing he knew he was awake in the hospital wing with Hermione asleep next to him, half sat in a chair, her head resting on the side of his bed.

Harry missed Hermione. He always did on the anniversaries, although he didn't have the courage to contact her after six years. She had moved on with her life, left all of that behind. They both had. But he didn't really want it to be left behind. He wanted his friends back but he knew it could never happen.

Harry stared at the letter from Molly Weasley inviting him down for Christmas sat on the mantle piece. She invited him every year and every year he made up an excuse not to go. He couldn't face it. He didn't want to face the family he cost a son and a daughter. But he had to. It had been too long. Harry made up his mind. He was going to the Weasley's for Christmas. 

***

A/N: Sorry its been so long and turns out to be so short and rubbish!

Thankyou to everyone who reviews and has done previously.


	9. Animosity In The Family

The One Who Had The Clearest View

Chapter Eight – Animosity In The Family

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

Thankyou to everyone who reviewed! By the way, I can't remember if I called Hermione's step-cousin Courtney or Constance so from now on she's Courtney.

Animosity In The Family

"If we were in my house I'd have thrown you out long ago," Hermione hissed at her step-cousin across the breakfast bar of the Granger's kitchen. It seemed that during the course of the day their mutual dislike had spiralled into full blown loathing.

"Well, Hermione, this isn't your house now is it?" retorted Courtney.

"And it isn't yours either so don't you dare try to make me feel unwelcome in it."

"But Hermione, you are unwelcome," the blonde woman said slowly as if she were talking to a not-so-bright child, "For you are the family freak, my dear, and freaks are called so for a reason,"

In a flash Hermione had her wand out and pointed unwaveringly at Courtney. The woman looked bored. "Firstly, _my dear, you cannot make me feel unwelcome in my own home, yes this house of my parent's is also my home, so stop trying to. Secondly, don't ever call me a freak again. Witches and wizards are the ones protecting you damn ignorant Muggles and many would see __you as the freak. And thirdly, don't talk to me as if I'm stupid. We both know I'm not. I'm a very smart and very powerful witch and I don't think you'd like to find out how powerful I am, would you?"_

"Is that a threat Hermione? Am I supposed to be intimidated by someone who turns hats into frogs for a living?"

Hermione lowered her wand and laughed in her face, much to Courtney's annoyance. "Hats into frogs? Please. I'll tell you what I do for a living. I'm one of the most senior members of the most powerful, famous and feared team of wizards in existence today: the DB66 team. Do you know what that is Courtney? No, I don't suppose you would, would you, seeing as we are a team of '_freaks_', as you so kindly put it. Let me put it to you this way. I'm an Auror Higher Elite. The FBI, MI5, Secret Service, whatever you want to use, take orders from _us_. We do the work they don't even know about. Would it help put it into perspective if I told you I could blow up Buckingham Palace with a wave of my hand? Never mind. We're just freaks, aren't we?" she deliberately used a light and airy tone and then walked away, knowing how it would have more effect and that she couldn't blow up Buckingham Palace with a wave of her hand. She'd need to mumble the incantation too. Courtney had been winding her up all day so now it was her turn to have a go at it.

"Is that so? Well I do hope they pay you well." Courtney called at her cousin's retreating back. It sounded like a last resort.

"What do you earn in a year Courtney?" Hermione asked, not turning.

"About £29,000."

"Really? I earned more than that last month. And, now I'm here in London, I'm only working 4 day weeks,"

The look on Courtney's face was classic. Hermione could see it in the mirror by the doorway.

***

Anton Eval was sat with the rest of the Hogwarts staff eating his Christmas dinner when he got a letter from his cousin. Making his excuses, he departed the table and made his way into the Entrance Hall, closely followed by a Dumbledore wearing a purple paper hat.

"What does he say, Anton?" asked the aging headmaster.

Anton scanned the rest of the page before answering. "He says he's located Evan Sterling and Harry Potter. He has spoken to Alana Cistern and she has agreed to help. He just needs to contact Sterling and Potter and locate Lavender Brown and Hermione Granger. Oh, and he and his mother wish you a Happy Christmas." He finished, pushing his white-blonde hair out of his eyes.

"Right. Anything about Damien?"

"Yes. He's in England until after New Year."

"Very well then." Dumbledore nodded. "Remind me to thank Draco personally when he gets here."

***

I'm sorry it's so short! I'll try to make my chapters a bit longer soon. I'm still working out the plot! 

Thanks to reviewers!


	10. Ruth

The One Who Had The Clearest View

Chapter Nine – Ruth

Disclaimer: Anything you recognise isn't mine.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who reviewed so far. I'll name-check you all at the end of the chapter. By the way, I realise that this chapter has jumped back in time a little. The idea for this chapter came after I'd written the ones set on Christmas Day.

Ruth

_December 20th_

"Right, Professor Eval had agreed to help us with this experiment as it incorporates a lot of what he is researching and what we are covering in class," Professor Ruth Hemingway addressed the class of 4th year Ravenclaws and Griffyndors before her outside the disused dungeon classroom Anton had been given as his laboratory. "However, before we go in, Professor Eval has some rules he would like to lay down that you must all adhere to in his laboratory."

"Thank you, Professor Hemingway," Anton smiled as he stepped forward from the doorway to address the teenagers, "Firstly I must ask you to not to touch anything except what you are told to in here. A lot of my research is still out because it can't be moved too well and there are some rather nasty and dangerous ingredients in the room. Secondly I would like to ask you all not to sit on the back row of desks when you go in and to be careful when moving around the sides of the room. Understood? Right then, in we go."

Ruth watched her class file in behind Anton. She decided that she was going to set them homework on Anton's demonstration, probably just a write up or something similar. She liked her classes, well, most of them. There were a lot of good kids in this school and an enormous amount of talent in some of the pupils. She and Anton had already come to the decision that a lot of that talent lay in this class and, although Ruth had never been one to pick favourites, she wanted to try and work on a certain three in the class. She had a feeling that this three were yet to even realise their full potential.

Scraping her auburn hair up into a bun she moved to the front of the class to help Anton with his demonstration. The two of them had become good friends in their first term at Hogwarts and he was always interested in the work she was doing with her DADA classes. Scanning the room, Ruth noticed that most of Anton's cauldrons had been moved to the back of the room or onto the sideboards. The tables were no longer in the U-shape he'd kept them in and the room, despite being a dungeon with no natural lighting, managed to almost look habitable. At the back of the room a cauldron was simmering over a low fire, a purple mist floating over the rim. Cabinets mounted on the walls above the sideboards ran parallel to each other, every shelf crammed with jars, bottles and tubs. Ruth glanced at the door to the store room. She'd only been in there a few times. The room was more like an isle of ceiling-to-floor shelves containing what she knew from experience to be pretty dangerous and volatile stuff to down right revolting jars of pickled God-knows-whats.

"Do you all have your notebooks open to take notes for your homework? I want a write up of this experiment for this time next week. Everybody ready?" the class nodded, "let's begin then."

***

Although it was the night of the last day of term, Albus had called a meeting in his office. Anton, Ruth and Minerva McGonagall were sat before the aging headmaster's desk discussing something only a very select few knew about.

"What else do we know about Damien?" Albus asked his colleagues.

"Well, Draco says he's known to both the London Secret Services Office and The New York Auror Higher Elite Office, or, more precisely, the DB66 team." Anton answered glancing at the letter his cousin had sent him.

"Go on."

"Well, we've all heard of the Norway Incident last year,"

Ruth, Albus and Minerva nodded.

"Well, Damien was supposedly the one controlling it and the DB66 team were the ones who master-minded it's demise. But Damien has never been caught because there wasn't any proof to tie him to it all."

"Are you sure?" Ruth asked.

"Positive. You all know that Alana Cistern from the DB66 team has agreed to help us and, although she's being very tight-lipped about what she knows until everyone is assembled, she's told me that one of their team members got as far as Damien's second in command but the guy killed himself while waiting to be interrogated. Their guy didn't get anything out of him before he was taken in either," Anton finished.

"Do we know if Damien's made any moves since?" questioned Ruth.

"No. He's kept a pretty low profile for a long time but he's not kept it low enough to arouse suspicion. He's just been getting on with his business in America."

"Smart move," commented Minerva.

"He is smart. Very smart. But I think our Draco is smarter," smiled Dumbledore.

***

Sorry it's so short again! I must start writing longer chapters. Well, the story is getting going now. Thankfully.

Moving on, thanks to: usha888, bubbles-123, Sophie, MissLexiRe, jem, AshesofNothing, DOTLP, The Brainless Wonder, Hollie, tora Tigress, wilgoldowl, fanficaholic1377, Pink-Crane, Phantomplanet, wicked-women, smile7499, ducksrule, ravn, warm in pink fuzzy pants, mazy, animegirl-mika, Polegara, lyz slytherin, Katt, lunatic-gurl and michelle for reviewing. Also, thanks to anyone I missed. I went through the review pages pretty quickly. Feel free to criticise, it will help me improve and if you have any suggestions for the story they're more that welcome. J


	11. Alone

The One Who Had the Clearest View 

Chapter Ten – Alone

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue

See A/N at the bottom please.

Alone 

"How long are you posted in London for?" Percy's wife Sophie asked Hermione over the kitchen table. It seemed that the unspoken rule, which Hermione had seen put into place at the Weasley's on Christmas evening when she had been there for the first three Christmas days after graduating, had yet to die. The men were in the sitting room, drinking, playing chess or cards while the women sat talking in the kitchen, preparing the buffet tea. At about seven o'clock the two groups would merge together in the sitting room, food would be served, gifts exchanged and the adults would sit up late into the night talking, playing games and catching up. It had been almost six years since Hermione had been a part of it.

"Until next October. I'm training the latest intake of Auror Highers up the second level," Hermione replied, chopping cucumber for the salad she and Sophie were making. She liked Sophie. They had always got on well. Sophie, Percy and the children had come over to New York with Fred, Mary, Josh and Anne to see Hermione in the summer. It was also Sophie who had persuaded Percy to apologise to his family after the fall out they'd had when Hermione was in her fifth year at Hogwarts. Although she'd never said how she did it, Hermione suspected it had something to do with Sophie wanting her children (Ralph, six and Dorothy, three) to grow up knowing their grandparents.

"So no more adventures and under cover operations for a year Hermione?"

"Nope. The people at the top seem to think that everything has calmed down enough to send three of us chasing our Training Honours," she replied, tipping the content of her chopping board into the salad bowl, which began to toss the salad.

"Do you even need them? I still haven't got mine. I bet if they've got your lot working on them it will be my lot next." Sophie worked with the Aurors in the British Ministry of Magic but had taken a more office based post when she found out she was pregnant with Ralph. She had always insisted that now she had children she never wanted to go back to being a patrolling Auror. She had told Hermione when she had asked Hermione for advice that she couldn't bear the thought of something happening to her and her child growing up without a mother.

"I don't think we need them but the three of us who've been sent to do them have an idea why we've started them. Do you remember Brian?"

"Yeah, he was the guy who lived down the hall from you in New York."

"Yeah, well, the three people who've been sent after the Training Honours just happen to be me, Alanna and Brian."

"And you, Alanna and Brian were the ones behind the Norway demise, weren't you?"

Sophie said, working out what Hermione was getting at.

"Exactly. Alanna is convinced this is a sort of delayed, forced sabbatical that's being covered up with the excuse of Training Honours."

"And I take it that you, Alanna and Brian aren't happy about it?" Sophie smiled. She'd known from Fred that Hermione hadn't been happy about the arrangements.

"I wasn't at first but, although I'm a bit homesick, I like it now. Brian's loving it but Alanna can't stand it. She'd constantly asking for a transfer to either Canada or London to at least be with Brian or me."

One of the reasons why Hermione liked Sophie as much as she did was the fact hat they were both in the same area of work. Although Hermione's work was of a much higher status, more dangerous and more active, she and Sophie were both qualified Aurors and, although the Honours Aurors, Auror Highers and Auror Higher Elites could get were of different levels and different contents, they were still basically the same thing. Sophie and Hermione could talk for hours about their work because they understood each other and each other's work so well. 

"Is it wise having three of our best on leave from their base when Damien was never caught?" Sophie asked.

"My thoughts exactly," Hermione smiled grimly.

***

'Albus Dumbledore 

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Severus Snape_

_Remus Lupin_

_Ruth Hemingway_

_Anton Eval_

_Draco Malfoy_

_Alanna Cistern - contacted. Awaits more information._

_Evan Sterling - located. Awaiting confirmation of arranged contact time._

_Lavender Brown – located._

_Hermione Granger – located._

_Harry Potter – located'_

Twenty-eight year-old Draco Malfoy stared at the list he had created for Dumbledore. He still had a lot of work to do. He had even been working through Christmas afternoon to locate people. The two hardest people to find happened to be the two people he knew were going to be the hardest to work with. Potter and Granger, as far as he knew, still hated his guts, thought him a Death Eater and were undoubtedly not going to trust him. Just lovely.

Potter and Granger. From what he had gathered, they hadn't seen each other for six years. Six years. After the Death of Ron Weasley and Potter's attempted suicide they had been inseparable. After the defeat of Voldemort he was almost prepared to say they were practically one person. Their names became moulded together. PotterandGranger. HarryandHermione. There was never one without the other. They both did the same Auror and Auror Higher course, lived together and many people had expected them to work together. If Draco hadn't known better he would have thought that they were a married couple. But then something happened. Something nobody seemed to know anything about. Something enormous happened, something big enough to rip them apart when it seemed that nothing could.

That was six years ago. Hermione had since moved to New York and had become 'the best of the best of the best', to quote a Muggle film, to become known, to the Defence, as one of the most powerful witches in the world and one of the greatest enigmas the side of the light possessed. And Potter had quietly moved to Japan for a year, returning aged 22 and one the best trained Auror Higher's that the British office had. And now, because of Damien Gerrard, they were about to be thrown back together again.

However, the biggest question in Draco's mind was not 'how will they react?' but 'what tore them apart?'

***

At eight o'clock at night the children were all asleep in bed, exhausted from the day, and the adults currently residing in The Burrow were settled in the sitting room.  There were eleven of them: Arthur and Molly, Fred and Mary, George and his fiancée Alice, Percy and Sophie, Bill and his wife Claire and Hermione.

"I'm serious, you have to come to New York, all of you, I've got the room and the kids will love it," Hermione insisted looking around at everyone in the room. The conversation had moved onto Hermione's New York life.

"When are you going back?" Claire asked. Claire, Bill's wife happened to be a second cousin, or something similar, to Sophie. Though their relationship was distant, they still looked alike. They both had the same, straight dark hair, small, doll like nose, and the same blue eyes.

"Monday. I'm there for New Year and then I'm coming back on January 4th."

"If you say you're going to the Time Square party I'm going to be so jealous," laughed Alice.

"Okay then, I won't say it," Hermione grinned.

"Oooh, I'm jealous!" laughed Alice, swiping her long blonde hair back out of her face. "Can I come too?"

"If you want. I meant what I said, you're all welcome anytime, just give me an hour or so notice beforehand. And you'd need to make sure I'm in New York first." She added as Alice's eyes lit up and she turned to George. George looked between Hermione and Alice, knowing exactly what Alice was about to ask.

"We'll talk about it," he told her, smiling a smile that told Hermione she had guests for New Year.

Looking at Alice and George smiling at each other, and then at Bill, sat with Claire leaning comfortably against him, as he spoke, it began to hit Hermione that she was the only one in the room who wasn't part of a couple. Looking around she noticed that all of her friends seemed completely happy, sat with their other halves. Looking around Hermione suddenly felt very alone.

She hadn't been in a relationship since last March. She had been seeing Richard, a Wall Street genius with no idea she was a witch, for six months when it had all ended. It hadn't been a bitter split, they just decided it wasn't working, that it wasn't meant to be. In the last month things seemed to change. They rowed, they made up, they rowed, they made up and eventually they got sick of it and they decided to call it a day. That had been the last time Hermione hadn't been alone, it that sense.

To say she didn't miss it would have been a lie, she realised, as Bill began relating a story about one of his American adventures Hermione wasn't really listening to. She had told herself she was okay being alone, that she had friends and that life was great. Until that moment it was the truth. Hermione was happy being single, she was happy with the way her career was going, happy with the company of friends. But suddenly she felt very alone.

Laughter somewhere far away told her that Bill had finished his story and she was snapped back to the present and out of her thoughts. Fred was now speaking and Hermione could hear the sounds of the last birds outside through the open front door down the hallway.

"And then he-" Fred paused a minute, turning his head towards the door leading to the hallway, "What was that?" he asked.

"What was what?" Molly asked, looking at her son strangely.

"I heard something outside, like keys," Fred said, rising in time with his brothers to his feet. Before they could leave the room there was a knock against the open front door and a voice Hermione hadn't heard for a very long time called down the hallway:

"Hello?"

***

Ta da! What does everybody think? I hate to leave it there but I'm going to just to be mean.

Right, about my lack of updates. As some people may have worked out, the timing of my updates seems to follow the timetable of the British Educational System. Well, I've not seemed to have any time to work on this story during term time and so I'm left with the holidays to work on this story. (One year left! One year left! One year left until I leave school properly and leave home!) Sorry!

Thank you very much to everyone who has reviewed. A big hello to **Dracis Tran**, my 50th reviewer. (About the classroom scene: it didn't really have a purpose, it was just an easy way for me to introduce Ruth and Anton.)

Thank you again to everyone who has reviewed.

The next bit shouldn't be long!

J


	12. Coffee Beans

The One Who Had the Clearest View Chapter Eleven – Coffee Beans 

Disclaimer: Own nothing, am paid nothing, don't sue.

By the way, I realise that this story is jumping around in time a bit. Sorry but it's necessary.

Coffee Beans 

Considering he'd always thought her a ditz, Draco was surprised to see Lavender Brown's name on Dumbledore's original list. He was even more surprised to discover she owned her own booming business.

_'Coffee Beans'_ seemed to be modelled on _'Central Perk'_ from the Muggle TV show _'Friends'_ Draco had once seen. The coffee shop looked warm, friendly, inviting, and seemed to have, even from the outside, a relaxed feel to it. Draco knew quite a bit about 'Coffee Beans'. According to the Muggles he'd overheard talking about it, it was _extremely_ popular with the twenty-somethings of Central London. According to the Muggles he'd overheard talking, the owner of the famous 'Coffee Beans' was none other than a curly-haired Lavender Brown fitting the description of the Miss Brown Draco hadn't liked very much during his youth.

Bearing his 'word-of-mouth' information in mind, the youngest Malfoy had apparated into Central London from his mother's Gloucestershire manor at 6pm on Christmas day. He wanted to find out if the curly-haired Lavender Brown of 'Coffee Beans' was the same curly-haired Lavender Brown of Hogwarts class of 1998.

Under an Invisibility Cloak in the four inches of snow lying on the ground, Draco Malfoy stared through the large glass windows of 'Coffee Beans' into the large red and gold (_'How typically Griffyndor')_ room before him. He had waited until the six Muggles inside had left before approaching the place. From the look of it, it seemed they had been having some sort of small Christmas party. They had all left carrying large bags. He guessed that they contained gifts from one another.

Draco watched Lavender clearing up the beer bottles and wrapping paper as she sang along to the music he could dimly hear coming from a Muggle CD player. She hadn't changed much. Her hair was wavy rather than curly now, still the same shade of chocolate brown. Lavender was a little slimmer than he remembered her as being but aside from that she was still the same. He had to admit she looked good, dressed in a baby blue v-neck sweater, brown skirt and stockings. She looked good, although, he reminded himself, not as good as he was sure someone else did.

Lavender looked up and Draco felt his breath freeze in his throat, temporarily forgetting that he was under an Invisibility Cloak. She stared right at him for a second before her gaze continued to sweep the rest of the street outside. Draco turned himself, seeing that the street was silent and empty. When he turned back Lavender had her wand out and was speeding up her cleaning.

Draco had often wondered what had made her so special, special enough to be included in Dumbledore's selective list. He'd never thought her a particularly powerful or talented witch. In school she was just another giggling girl. Dumbledore was yet to explain his reasons to him but, as he watched the fire die in its grate, it clicked. Lavender was pointing her wand and obviously casting spells, but she wasn't saying any incantations.

***

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry loomed above him in an assortment of towers and battlements. It had been a while since Draco had last seen it and, walking through the grounds towards the front doors, he found himself feeling eleven again. A little nervous, a little intimidated, a little excited, all belied by the cool, calm and collected look plastered across his face. Eleven. _So_ _much_ had changed since he was eleven.

His awe at the grandeur of Hogwarts faded when he remembered why he was there, and it sure a shell wasn't for Christmas dinner and sherry trifle. Climbing the steps to the front doors he mentally checked all of his facts and went through what he needed to say to them all. 

Draco, although looking forward to seeing Albus, Severus, Ruth and his cousin, Anton, rather wished he didn't have to be where he was. He wanted to be spending Christmas with his mother, not leaving her alone to rattle around the manor with only the house elves for company. However, as he had explained to her when she had helped him pack his things, something he suspected she wanted to do to still feel like she had a little boy, this needed to be done and time was of the essence. Things were staring to happen on both sides of the coin and his side needed to come together and fast.

Swiping his blonde hair out of his eyes (the slicked back style long abandoned) he pushed open the doors of Hogwarts, not expecting a welcome party and to go straight up to Albus' office as planned. However, he stopped in the middle of the Entrance Hall as his gaze met another's. Stood before him, small, wire framed glasses on, her shiny auburn hair down, faming her face, wearing a mid-length grey skirt, stockings and a baby pink v-neck sweater (cashmere, by the look of it) not that unlike Lavender's, was the woman he had been looking forward to seeing all day and who had plagued his thoughts for nearly a month.

"Happy Christmas, Draco," smiled Ruth.

***

Again, short, I know.

Let me know what you all think, be brutally honest, please. Any suggestions, criticisms, questions are welcome.

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and to anyone who does.

The next chapter is on its way and will be called '_Rose Coloured Glasses'_.

Hope everyone has a good day! 


	13. Rose Coloured Glasses

Rose Coloured Glasses  
  
Disclaimer: Ain't mine, don't sue.  
  
Draco dropped his bags and crossed the Entrance Hall to Ruth. She smiled at him and moved to meet him. He took her head in his hands and kissed her fully and deeply on the lips.  
  
"Draco, the students," she whispered breathily against his lips, remembering where they were.  
  
"Fuck the students," he replied, moving his arms to her waist, feeling her arms go around his neck. She chuckled softly and kissed him, knowing that the students were all in bed by now. She felt him smile against her lips.  
  
"I missed you," he whispered, pulling her tight against him.  
  
"I can tell," she chuckled, "I missed you too. Ruth paused and sighed, looking up searchingly into his eyes, "I hate this Draco,"  
  
"I know, I do too. I don't know how long it has to carry on but I know I don't want it to," he told her, leaning his forehead against hers, mentally noting that her was only able to do so because she was wearing high heels and he was slouching, dropping his height a few inches.  
  
Ruth felt tears fill her eyes and looked down before Draco could see them. They'd been together for over a year now but, due to work and commitments to what was left of the Order and Dumbledore's new movement, they couldn't be together like a normal couple. This had been their longest space apart yet and it had hurt the most. She always cried when he left but she didn't want him to see her doing so when he'd just got there. However, she was too slow.  
  
"Please don't cry," he whispered, stroking her face, "It's horrible, I know, but please don't cry about it. We're together now for a few days. I love you Ruth, you know I do, please don't cry." He hated seeing her cry.  
  
"Oh, ignore me!" she sniffed, "I'm just being a damn hormonal woman, that's all." He laughed and kissed her forehead. "I love you Draco. And you're right, it is horrible being apart this long but we aren't now, are we? So we're going to spend some time together and do all sorts of Christmassy, couply, things when we aren't working on you-know-what, yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. That sounds wonderful. I'm going to take you to Hogsmeade tomorrow and we're going to do the whole movie by a roaring fire thing because I've brought Weasley's enchanted DVD thing with me," he watched her smile and felt his heart swell, "but tonight, however," he lowered his voice a little, "I intend us to get little sleep."  
  
"Really? Whatever does that mean, dear Draco?" Ruth grinned cheekily, twirling the hair at the base of his head around her fingers.  
  
"That means," He dropped his voice, "that I intend to spend tonight making love to you in your bed and that when we do sleep, which I assure you won't be for a while, my dear, I intend to wake up with you in my arms and to then wake you up with a kiss and have some help in the shower, dear Ruth," he murmured to her, his cocky-but-sexy smirk he knew she loved in place. Ruth's cheeks tinged pink but she still smiled seductively at him.  
  
"Is that a promise?" she purred quietly into his ear.  
  
"It's a premonition," he replied, his voice deep. She laughed and kissed him on the lips, taking his hand.  
  
"Come on. We'd better get to Albus' office. I hope my Christmas present wasn't in the bags you dropped," Draco's face dropped and Ruth couldn't help but laugh again, kissing him briefly.  
  
***  
  
Anton and Albus watched them, smiling at both of them and their 'couply' plans. Anton could hazard a guess at the nature of what Draco was saying when he dropped his voice, although he couldn't hear what he was saying, but still he smiled. He was happy for them. Lord knows they both deserved it.  
  
He marvelled at how much his cousin had changed. As a child he was always mean, cold and even twisted but as a man, after the death of his father when he was 18, he had become likeable, funny and a good person. As a man in love he showed a different side again. He was more caring, affectionate and loving than Anton could ever think the nasty little boy who spent his 9th birthday holding contests with his friends on how fast they could pull the legs off a spider could ever be.  
  
"They're so happy," he remarked quietly to Albus as they observed the couple picking up Draco's bags from the balcony above the entrance hall, just out of sight.  
  
"They deserve it," the old man replied.  
  
Anton paused, smiling again before he spoke.  
  
"Bagsy best man."  
  
***  
  
Draco surveyed the six wizards sat around the table with him, each with an expectant and anxious look upon their faces, including the usually incredulously expressioned Snape. He let out a sigh before beginning.  
  
"Things aren't good."  
  
He observed their reactions. It seemed as though this was nothing new to them.  
  
"Although Damien is staying quiet, I fear he is gathering strength again," the young blonde paused, glancing at the six pairs of eyes upon him, "We have been foolish to think he is biding his time. You have know idea how much I've been kicking myself since I made these connections today."  
  
Dumbledore frowned, urging Draco to continue.  
  
"Look at this: Firstly Damien Gerrard is sighted in Diagon Alley almost a whole month before Christmas. He says he is here to visit family over the holiday. He is here for around six weeks. Then," Draco counted things off on his fingers, "an Albert Morrington from the Department of Mysteries quits his job unexpectedly. Gregory Goyle is reported to have met with Damien on the 2nd of this month followed by Hamish Pennyweight on the third. On December 14th Fara Rowley arrives in London for the first time in ten years. What do these people have in common?" Draco asked the room, not waiting for an answer. "Albert Boyd was a school friend of Ivan Kouglehopf, Damien Gerrard's supposed second in command during the Norway Incident, who killed himself waiting to be interrogated by the DB66 team. Albert is an expert in potions, the nephew of Dominic Jones, the son of his elder sister, Maria Jones, now Maria Boyd. Dominic Jones was-"  
  
"Right in Voldemort's inner circles." Snape cut in.  
  
"Yes. Gregory Goyle, we all know is the son of a Death Eater. After Voldemort's death the Goyles fled Europe and haven't been seen until now. Hamish Pennyweight, an American wizard with a lot of military contacts in Europe, is the son of Claudia Pennyweight, also known as Moira Finney, an ex Death Eater who fled for America after changing her appearance and name. And, lastly we have the crown jewel, Fara Rowley."  
  
"Rowley was adopted by a nice wizarding family aged 4. Fara was the illegitimate child of none other than Bella Cater and Julius Malfoy."  
  
"WHAT!" exclaimed Anton.  
  
"You heard me Anton."  
  
"Are you sure? I mean, I know they were both right in the inner circle but- "  
  
"It doesn't matter now. Bella and Julius are both dead anyway, we needn't worry about them."  
  
Draco cleared his throat before continuing; knowing the impact his words had had on his cousidn was quite large. Julius had always been close with Anton, right up until Anton was disowned for refusing the dark side. He was the oldest grandchild, heir to the Malfoy fortune had Julius' children died before him and so had always been favoured over his younger cousin.  
  
"Fara Rowley learned of her heritage when she was 14, killed her adoptive parents and tracked down her mother who, incidentally, brought her into the Death Eater's clutches. When Voldemort first fell, when Rowley was 19, she fled England for Africa in search of ancient ways of reviving her master. Fifteen years later she returned to be accepted again into Voldemort's fold. It was Rowley who organised the attack on Beabaxtons twelve years ago."  
  
Ruth gasped. She had lost a cousin in that attack, although the others didn't know it yet. The Beaubaxtons attack had been more of a slaughter than anything else. Death Eaters had invaded the school, murdering almost ¾ of its pupils and inhabitants. The attack had even made Muggle news because of the devastation caused to the surrounding countryside.  
  
"Rowley played key parts in Voldemort's regime, having a position of high authority over other Death Eaters, remarkably managing to remain almost anonymous to the public. She was there the night Voldemort fell a second time and once again, fled. She hadn't been heard of until now."  
  
Draco scanned the room. Lupin seemed to be staring unseeing at his feet, Snape was watching Dumbledore, who sat pinching the bridge of his nose, worry evident on his face. McGonagall was flicking a worried gaze around the room. Anton still looked shell-shocked at the news that his grandfather had an illegitimate child. He had always been naïve when it came to the workings of the rich and powerful Malfoy men because he was sheltered, the favourite, something Draco had once envied.  
  
He looked at Ruth. She was his world. At present she looked more than worried or shocked, she looked angry. She looked furious, livid, yet hurt at the same time. At or because of what he didn't know. He wanted to ask but thought better of it in a room full of people.  
  
"I think we all know what this suggests," Dumbledore broke the silence, raising his head, his age suddenly showing and taking Draco by surprise.  
  
"It seems as though Damien is imitating the steps of another. It seems as though he is gathering the Dark Lord's most loyal followers or their kin to be followers to his own."  
  
A/N: Please don't hurt me. I'm a horrible, horrible person who should be shouted at for a long time. Sorry. Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry! I really should have updated but I didn't get chance and then school started again and, as it's my last year, everything went, as is still, MAD. Thankyou to everyone who reviewed, especially sinta1 for reminding me that this story has been recommended at portkey.org and that I really should update soon.  
  
A big big big big thankyou to: sinta1, Cara, Your Worshipfullness, PsychoticNetJunkie, Space Efficient Girl, lisa paige, usha88, SoMeONe hehe, and g for reviewing the last two chapters.  
  
Anyone who's waited a while for this chapter is really going to hate me now. I can't promise a definite date that the next chapter will be up because my final exams are reeeaaaly close and so I'm not going to have much spare time but I can promise you all, you wonderful, wonderful reviewers, that it definitely will not be another 8 months before I get the next chapter to you!  
  
Hope you enjoyed the chapter, let me know what you think. xxx 


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